


Fireworks

by cinderella1147



Series: Off The Record [4]
Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 02:00:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13893849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderella1147/pseuds/cinderella1147
Summary: A New Year's Eve story that takes place after the Season 2 finale.





	Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

> Note 1: part 4 of the "Off the Record" series, the first one that intends to fill some of the gap between the end of season 2 and the beginning of season 3. Takes place over new year's eve, so a little less than 2 months following S02E09 and the end of the previous story.
> 
> Note 2 : Obv, nothing is mine, but since Sorkin is done playing with these characters, I figured it would be okay to borrow them for a little while.
> 
> Note 3: Constructive criticism is always welcomed. English is not my first language, so feel free to let me know if I made grammar mistakes, etc. 
> 
> Note 4: I took some creative liberties regarding the New York City landscape/skyline, because I honestly don't know if Don's idea would actually work in real life or not. :)

Sunday, December 30, 2012  
8:34PM  
DON’S APARTMENT

Sloan watched as the the famous Paramount Pictures logo appeared on the TV screen in all its 1950s glory. It was movie night. Don was finishing up a call in the bedroom while she started the DVD and got his beer and her wine out of the fridge. He was adamant about exposing her to the most important classical movies, so tonight “Rear Window” was on the schedule. 

When he suggested that they watch “Sweet Smell of Success” after the successful election night coverage, it was mostly as a joke. Make no mistake, he was all for going out - or staying in, for that matter- with Sloan as soon as it was possible, but he also thought she would be too tired to hang out that night. He was content to do the sensible, adult thing, and maybe meet the next day for breakfast. Instead, Don realized (not for the first or the last time,) that they had many things in common: not just their interests, or lifestyle, but habits as well. Sloan was just as pumped up after the excitement of a full night election coverage as he was, and had no intention of going home to sleep just yet. 

So they did what he suggested, and ended up going back to his place to watch the 1957 classic until 4 in the morning. Best. Date. Ever. He gave her a hoodie and a pair of shorts to change into, and 20 minutes into the movie she was cuddled to his side and didn’t move until the end credits started to roll. And yeah, there was some significant making out as well. Seriously: Best. Date. Ever. 

That movie night quickly turned into a tradition, when Don discovered that Sloan wasn't joking about never having seen “Casablanca.” They would block out a night each week and watch black and white, or technicolor classics. It was laid back, fun and never boring.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he said into the phone, trying to wrap up the conversation. “Listen, Jim, I trust you, Mac trusts you - you can handle being the lead producer for the New Year’s Eve coverage tomorrow, Mac wouldn’t have suggested it to Charlie otherwise. But I’ll be in town, so if there’s a crisis, give me a call. I wouldn’t call Mac, if I were you- Will might fire you for interrupting their vacation.” He listened for another moment, then interrupted: “stop freaking out. No one watches ACN - or any other cable news network- during New Year’s Eve anyway! Listen, man, I gotta go now. Take it easy and try not to throw up.”

With that, Don muted his phone and threw it on the nightstand. He was done for the night. In fact, he really wanted to be done for the year. 

He walked back to the living room where Sloan had paused the screen at the opening title of the movie. Grabbing his beer, he dropped to the empty side of the couch and crossed his legs on top of the coffee table in a practiced motion.  
Sloan grabbed the remote, “Ready?”  
“Hmmm-hmmm,” he hummed, and pulled her to her place (it was, in fact *her* place, at this point), pressed closely to his chest, as she pressed play.

 

Monday, December 31, 2012  
9:03AM  
DON’S APARTMENT

“Is it weird that we don’t have any plans for tonight?” He asked between sips of his morning coffee. They weren’t living together, but it was an unspoken agreement that they would spend weekends together at either his or her place. Since Mac and Will went on a holiday, and ACN’s New Year’s Eve programming didn’t require full newsroom staff, they had this day and the following one off as well, which meant an unprecedented 4 days to spend together. Sloan figured she should be freaking out, or at the very least Don should be. They were both independent in so many ways, frustration and tension was bound to happen, right? Yet, they were starting Day 3 and none of the prerequisite nerves were there. So when Don brought up New Year’s Eve plans, she just shrugged, “What do you mean?” and went back to her crossword puzzle.

“I mean, we’re cool, young professionals.... Well, me, I’m kinda cool, you - not so much. Tell you what, you’re a nerd with great legs, so I guess that evens us out- ”  
“I make nerds look cool, pal, don’t you forget that,” she interrupted without even looking up. 48 ACROSS, she was going to figure it out, dammit. “But what does that have to do with New Year’s Eve? You being cool, me being a nerd?”  
“I’m just asking, is it normal that we live in the greatest city in the world, and yet we have no plans to celebrate the new year at a big party, with loud music, lots of people, and tons of alcohol, like the majority of our age-group?”  
“Stupid, goddamn boxes…” She muttered out of context and Don cleared his throat to say:  
“Something you want to share with the class, Professor?”

Without acknowledging that she was supposed to react to another line of conversation, she just looked up with a murderous expression on her face.  
“It’s the crossword puzzle. It’s wrong. There is no way 48 ACROSS should be 8 letters.” 

Don’s eyebrows rose a little and he forced himself to think of sad things to avoid bursting out in laughter. After a second, her eyes widened and she practically ran to the couch where she left her phone.  
“I just realized I know the managing editor! I’m going to call him and demand to have this fixed.”  
“You’re going to call the managing editor of the New York Times on Monday, December 31st, and demand that 48 ACROSS in their Sunday crossword puzzle be fixed?”

She looked up from the phone as if his question was not making any sense.  
“Don’t worry, I’m gonna ask him first how his holiday break was, it’s not like I was raised in a barn.” 

Her indignation was totally adorable, and Don was not holding back his grin now, but it also looked like Sloan was dangerously close to actually hit ‘call’ and badger that poor, unsuspecting guy, so he walked up to her and gently removed the device from her hand. 

“Not saying that you’re wrong about the number of boxes for 48 ACROSS, but maybe the managing editor does not have the capacity to actually fix this. Also, it’s already printed, so…?”

She looked disappointed, but nodded soberly.  
“You’re probably right.” She plopped down on the couch then suddenly looked at him. “What were we talking about?”

With a smile he announced, “I have an idea for tonight.”

“We’re not having sex at the office, Don.”

He grinned, “I didn’t think we would, but I like how your mind went right there in a nanosecond. No, no office sex. But… you know what, I’m not telling. We’ll leave here at 10pm, so make sure you’re ready. Dress warmly. I need to make a call.”

With that, he gave her a peck on the lips and went to grab his phone from the bedroom.

 

Monday, December 31, 2012  
11:13PM  
DOWNTOWN MANHATTAN

 

“Don, I swear to God, if we get stuck in this crowd and spend New Year’s Eve on the street in the cold, I’m going to throw out that bottle of Macallan you got from the guys on the your birthday.”

He stopped in his tracks so suddenly, she bumped into his arm. He looked at her through narrowed eyes:  
“You wouldn’t…”  
She raised one eyebrow, then ended up rolling her eyes.  
“Nah, I probably wouldn’t. That stuff is too good. But I would think of an appropriate punishment, nevertheless.”  
“Of that I’m well aware. Remember, I heard you threaten Zane with a ball-peen hammer. That guy still doesn’t dare to look you straight in the eyes.”  
“I know! I’m super-proud of that one.”

They continued down the street, trying to avoid slamming into the drunk and happy people that filled up the sidewalk. Finally, after one last turn, he grabbed her hand and stopped at the backdoor of a building that Sloan vaguely recognized, but couldn’t name. After punching in a numerical code, they were able to enter and leave behind the constant rumble of the crowds. When they reached the elevators and she saw the sign “PERSONNEL ONLY” she turned to him.

“So, care to share where we are, or why we’re here?” her impatience was cute, but he just pressed his lips together and shook his head to indicate “no.”

They took the elevator all the way up to the 35th floor. When they stepped out, Don lead her to a staircase, and then out to the rooftop. Once they were outside, he said,  
“Sloan Sabbith, if Duke University ever finds out that you didn’t recognize this building, they might just take away one of your PhD’s.” He grinned, then added, “here’s a hint: we’re on the corner of William and Wall Street.”

She opened her mouth to protest, then her eyes got wide and she proclaimed breathlessly:  
“The Museum of American Finance.”  
“Bingo.” He guided her to East side of the rooftop. “Coincidentally, this is a prime spot to watch the fireworks over the Brooklyn Bridge.”

Instead of observing the skyline, she was staring at him in wonder and a little confusion.  
“But how did -”  
“Well, I know a guy, who knows a guy… and they both happen to be big fans of Will, so I may or may not have promised them an introduction and a photo-op in the near future. By the way, if you could be there when I have to break this to Will, that would be great. I think he’s less likely to yell at me if his sister is in the room.”

“Have you met the guy?” She was rightfully sceptical about this logic.

“You have a point. Okay, then just please make sure no one records it on their phone when the inevitable happens.”  
“Don’t worry, Don. I’ll protect you,” Sloan said with a hint of smile. 

***

There was no loud music, tons of people, unlimited alcohol supply, or even a loud countdown to midnight. But there were fireworks, slow smiles, slower kisses, and a wordless agreement to have more movie nights.


End file.
